King
by JakoPear
Summary: Jack Skellington origins story. Jack is in an asylum in the human world... Rated T for some violence...
1. Chapter 1

He stared straight ahead, his unfocused eyes barely registering the white tile walls of the room as they tightened the straps of his straightjacket to an almost unbearable level. The guards seemed to be wary of him as he was half dragged down the hallway, the tranquilizers finally kicking in.

They never seemed to work on him. The last time he had broken loose, it had taken two hours for the drugs to have any effect. Even then, he'd only been out for five minutes. The guards had barely got him through the door before he'd woken up. He laughed bitterly to himself, and the guards exchanged a few uneasy looks, moving faster down the corridor.

They dealt with plenty of crazy people in this place, but this one…

This one was more than just crazy. He was _insane_.

He unnerved them without trying, almost as if he was unaware of the effect he had on people; maybe he was. There was an indefinable air about him that made him different from the others. It was easy to spot him from a distance, and as odd as it was, it had nothing to do with his appearance.

He was so tall that it was almost ridiculous, towering head and shoulders over anyone in the room, although his mere presence was enough to make them feel small. Hollow-eyed and gaunt, his unnaturally still, pale face only amplified his odd, skeletal looks. Even his straightjacket seemed to hang limply off his frame, though it hade been specially fitted and was as tight as possible. His long jet black hair was the only thing about him that still retained a sense of normality, though it was untidy and in dire need of cutting.

Throwing him onto the floor of his cell, they left him and locked the door, no doubt posting extra security outside the door. He giggled softly to himself as he sat up, slowly making his way to the wall and leaning against it.

He winced as he put pressure on a large bruise on the back of his head.

The guards figured that a few knocks couldn't really make him much crazier. In his increasingly rare sane moments, he tended to agree with them. That didn't mean he appreciated it.

Bringing his knees up and tucking them close to his chest, he rocked back and forth, trying to shut out the white sterile world he lived in with its locked doors and no windows.

He knew that he hadn't always been like this. If he tried, if he _really _tried, he could vaguely remember a time when he had been free of this place, unaware of it and the horrors that lay inside.

Most of the time, he could barely recall his own name. But he could remember the wind. He missed the wind, blowing cold against his face.

Visions tormented him, and he could find no refuge from it, even in his sleep. Ochre leaves swirling around a gravestone, the name carved into it always undecipherable, unreachable. He didn't know when or where it was, or if the place even existed. All he knew was that he woke up screaming every time.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been outside. _They_ thought he'd freak out. Too much excitement, they said.

**Ha!**

_Yes, I'm crazy_, he thought, _but I'm not stupid enough to screw up a chance of freedom._

That was where he'd been attempting to go today. He'd had no plans for once he was outside. He wasn't even sure he could survive the outside world. He didn't think he wanted to, either. He just wanted the wind on his face.

Somebody further up the corridor started screaming. He groaned, knowing it would be hours before they stopped. He hated this ward. All of the screamers were here, and once one got going, the rest would soon follow.

Burying his face in his knees, he began humming to himself and attempted to shut out the voices, both inside and outside.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Sir, we had another attempted breakout today. He was apprehended, but he was almost out of the building, sir." The guard captain saluted the director of the asylum and looked straight ahead as he gave his report, wishing he was somewhere else entirely. The director was sometimes worse than the crazies he had locked up. But no one crossed him. At least, no one crossed him and lived to talk about it.

The director sighed and looked across his desk to one of his three captains, noting that his gaze was still fixed on the wall.

"Who was it this time?" he had already guessed, as the guard was still obviously shaken from his encounter. He frowned slightly. That would need to be remedied, soon. _Nothing_ unsettled his captains. Not while he was in charge.

"It was _him_, sir."The guard swallowed thickly and presented the director a file that was much thicker than the others piled on the desk beside to his feet. "Again, sir."

"Thank you, Sinker," he said easily, calling the guard by his nickname. "You may leave."

Sinker was slightly taken aback by his master's in-depth knowledge of him, but he still managed to croak out the necessary words, and left the office.

The instant the door closed, however, the director completely dropped all pretences and threw the file at it, growling unintelligibly as he stomped over to his liquor cabinet.

The file had fallen open to a photograph taken five years ago. The man in the picture was about twenty-five, tall, too skinny and pale with short, jet black hair and equally dark eyes.

Below the image was a short caption.

It read 'Skellington Jr'

**Author's note:**

**Worked out who the director is yet????? It's totally obvious because I have no imagination… sorry. Lolz.**

**Please review!!!! It would be nice to know what you think, it would make my day. Criticism and tips are welcome AS LONG AS IT'S NOT BASHING. I do not like bashing. THANK YOU!!**

**Next chapter will be up as soon as I finish it. Which won't be long. A few days, max. XD**

**SilverIceDragon**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: READ THIS FIRST!!!**

**WARNING!!!!!!** This chapter is more violent than most will be, and I didn't particularly enjoy writing it, which is why it took so long. Sorry! Next one will be up sooner, promise.

However, the show must go on, and I had to write it (or the next chapter would have made no sense). **Sorry Jack!!**

Okay, warning over XD

On a lighter note, muchos gracias to **Destiny's Daughter **and **Kaaayyytteee** (sorry for bad spelling) for the lovely reviews. I would also like to thank my two best friends for being a great help on the subject of names. I think I've got it now!

And thank YOU for reading.

Anyway, I'll stop talking now and let you read. Enjoy! (As much as you can, anyway)

**- - - - - - - - -**

A hard smack brought him unmercifully from his troubled sleep, and as he blinked in the harsh bright lights his guard whispered maliciously in his ear, "Someone to _visit_ you, boy…"

Groaning softly, Jack didn't bother looking up as the heavy iron door swung open, the old rusty hinges creaking. He didn't need to see who it was, and he didn't particularly want to, either. Instead, he buried his face in his knees, desperately trying to block out the squeaking and the sterile, medical smell of disinfectant and rubber gloves.

There was only one person who ever came to 'visit' him, and the 'visits' usually ended with him even worse than before. Even the mention of the doctor's name was enough to scare him out of his wits. He maintained the barest hope, as he did every time, that the doctor's 'visit' would be a short one, that it wouldn't leave him screaming for mercy. It was the only thing that kept some part of him rational during the dark hours of the doctor's 'visits'; the man seemed to enjoy torturing him. He tightened his already tense muscles, almost breaking out in a sweat with the effort of not moving away from the doctor.

He heard an intake of breath somewhere not too far above his head and gritted his teeth.

"Ja-ack…How are you today? Are you enjoying your stay…?" The eerie, oddly inflected voice seemed to come from inside his own head, and Jack doubted that he would have been able to block it out even with his hands free.

He said nothing in reply to the doctor; he knew from experience that any response would draw out the 'visit' even longer.

Jack heard the guard's hand moving through the air and he rolled with the blow to lessen the damage, though the guard didn't notice his movement. A tight, vice-like grip on his shoulder told Jack that his guard was more than ready to hit him again, which he did with no restraint. He didn't have the time or the freedom of movement to dodge away from it, and he felt the hard knuckles connect brutally with his jaw. Still reeling from the viciousness of the blow, he wasn't even aware of the guard dragging him back into a sitting position, or the hot, sticky wetness on his face.

Reluctantly, he opened his mouth to answer the doctor and winced, sharp lines of pain lancing across the right side of his face, and there was the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

Forcing himself to respond, Jack managed to croak out unconvincingly, "I'm fine."

"Oh, really? Then why do I hear so many stories about you…" Here the doctor paused dramatically, his creepy, creaky voice echoing around the small, tiled white room with its single, overly bright light bulb hanging from the ceiling, "going for _walks_?"

Jack swallowed and shut his eyes tight as the rubber fingers of a gloved black hand slipped under his chin and forced his face upwards. Trying to resist made the pain in his jaw even worse, and the doctor took full advantage of it, roughly tilting his head from one side to the other.

"Open your eyes, Jack…"

Suddenly the doctor slapped him, and his eyes went wide in shock. Jack unwillingly caught his gaze, and everything else faded out of focus.

"Much better." The nasally voice seemed much worse when he could see him, the glare from the light reflecting off his shiny bald head. "I do like it when you look at me. It makes my _visits_ so much more… enjoyable…"

The doctor was so short that he was almost at Jack's level, his small, beady black eyes boring into him through the cracked lenses of his glasses. He thrust his head forward, his beaky nose almost touching Jack's. The distinct smell of disinfectant was so overpowering that he recoiled, tumbling onto the floor.

Jack realized that this was exactly what he had wanted all along.

He was lying flat on his back, completely at the doctor's mercy.

"Now, now, Junior." The doctor grinned ominously. "We can't have you behaving like that. Not when we have such an… _esteemed_ visitor for you."

Jack stared up at him in shock, ignoring the blood trickling down the side of his face. He didn't havevisitors. _Ever_.

Before either of them could speak, a thundering voice came from the corridor and the doctor shuddered at the sound of it.

"How long does it take," The deep voice roared threateningly, "To wake someone up, Finklestein?"

The doctor froze for a moment, and then glanced at the guard, who hauled a shocked Jack back into a sitting position against the opposite wall. Looking frantically about, he stared at Jack for a long, uncomfortable second and scooted out of the small cell like a frightened dog.

There was someone that the doctor was afraid of?

Jack was astounded. A mere whisper of the man's name was almost enough to send him into a fit, and he knew that even the staff were unnerved by the creepy 'doctor', though they tried not to show it. The only exception stood humming infuriatingly beside him, and, it seemed, out in the corridor.

He heard a raised voice through the closed door, and though he could not make out the words, he was certain that it was the same voice. Oddly, it hadn't spooked him even slightly, though the doctor had apparently been scared out of his wits.

In fact, the voice had been almost… _comforting_?

It was a word that Jack barely recognized from disuse, but it seemed to be the only one that his stunned brain could come up with.

There was a lull in the voices outside as the door creaked open slightly, and Jack clearly heard his savior speak in a cold, final tone.

"I suggest," he said icily, "that you stay away from this particular area for a while. Unless, of course, you would rather clear out your desk?" he added menacingly.

"N-no, sir… " Jack heard the doctor speak, his trembling voice so far from that of the vicious, disturbing 'counsellor' that had been tormenting him only moments ago. "Of course, _Lord_ Saithien."

The guard beside Jack ceased his humming to draw in a breath and whisper, "_It's Senior…_"

And the endless, infuriating humming resumed, though less cheerfully now; an unrecognizable but somehow familiar tune that stuck in Jack's head for hours on end, long after the guard had gone.

Then Jack realized what he had said.

_Senior? _

He was often referred to as Junior by the doctor, and this particular guard was virtually his pet. What did it mean?

Jack forgot all about it as the door creaked fully open, and a head poked around the door, dark eyes blazing angrily.

**A/N:**

Well, I totally didn't give the game away there, did I?

So, Finklestein and his evil henchman? Mwahahaha. Makes no sense, eh? It will do eventually – it's not Dr. Finklestein as you know him… and you do know the henchman.

I'm sorry for grammatical or spelling mistakes. I do check, but I tend to miss it in my own stuff. So please let me know if you spot anything so I can fix it… Or you could just review anyway? It's the big green button right there! You know you want to click it… I accept anonymous reviews.

Shameless, I know… but seriously, I really do appreciate it, and it will make the next chapter come that much quicker. Thank you again to my two reviewers, and I have taken note of the tips, **Destiny's Daughter**, tyvm!!

**SilverIceDragon**


	3. Chapter 3

so, um, hi....! *ducks* I'M SORRY !!!!!!!!! i know i said it would be out sooner, and it is kinda shorter than the others, but it will be worth the wait (i hope)

thank you to everyone who reviewed, and i'm sorry if i haven't got back to you yet, i've been really busy not an excuse, i know, but the holidays are coming up so i will be faster. (i already have the next one done, i've had it finished for a while) so, i'm being (relatively) nicer to Jack in this one.

sorry, i'm rambling... so, without further ado, may i present you with:

CHAPTER THREE!!!

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The furious glare softened as it fell upon Jack, though there was still a smoldering rage in the mans' eyes as he stepped into the room.

He was tall, having to stoop to get through the doorway. His tailored suit somehow managed to look ragged and lifeless on his skinny frame, though it was evidently well-made, and the mop of bright reddish-orange hair matched only his socks.

It occurred to Jack that the man looked like a tired old scarecrow, left guarding his field too long; although he was good looking, he seemed to be weighed down by something, and many deeps lines were carved into his face. His scarecrow-like appearance was only magnified by his odd gait – he walked without bending his knees, almost as if he didn't have any.

The man interrupted his thoughts, speaking softly, as if afraid to scare him. He stayed several feet away from Jack, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Are you alright?" he asked, almost hesitantly. A strong sense of familiarity washed over Jack, though he had no idea where it came from.

Jack raised his head slowly, avoiding the man's gaze. Was he someone else come to torment him?

The man repeated his question. It was more of a statement than a request.

Jack turned his head slightly to face him, and winced as he nodded.

The man's eyes narrowed as he caught Jack wincing, and despite his awkward gait, he was beside him before he finished speaking.

Startled by the sudden movement, Jack shot upright, groaning as he moved.

"Sir?" he croaked out, grimacing again.

"Don't call me that. And… you're not fine. Stay still." The orders came as a surprise to Jack, but before he could say anything, the man had gently tilted his head to one side, and speech became impossible as long, thin fingers held his jaw in place.

As he studied the damage, Saithien's fury increased, and he ignored the profuse amount of blood staining his sleeve.

The upper right part of Jack's jaw was almost shattered; he shouldn't be able to move it, let alone speak, and most of his too-tight straightjacket was stained with the blood. The fact that Jack was even conscious and could still think through the pain meant that he had dealt with similar or worse injuries many times before, and it only served to fire his anger even more.

He released Jack's head, and watched as he turned slowly towards him, the muffled agony visible in his eyes.

"Who…are you?" he managed to whisper from the side of his mouth.

Saithien winced inwardly, wishing he'd stop speaking. To Jack, he said, "I'm Benjamin Saithien… You can call me either, it doesn't matter." He paused then, and Jack thought that he seemed to be thinking about saying something else. The silence stretched into awkwardness, and Jack squirmed under his piercing gaze.

"But for now, you're not going to call me anything, because you're not going to be doing any talking. At least until your jaw heals."

Jack nodded slowly in agreement, though somewhat reluctantly. He had so many questions.

He realized that the guard had gone, and a particular question sprung to mind. He had to ask at least one.

"The guard…he…called you…Senior. Why?"

Saithien's plastic smile slipped almost unnoticeably, and Jack in his pain-filled haze didn't catch it. Of all the questions, he thought bitterly. For a moment he hesitated, then he laughed and answered, "Probably because I'm old. Much older than I look, anyway."

Jack snorted. He hadn't expected a real answer anyway. Who _was _this guy? He'd never heard of him – _Lord_ Elrich Saithien wasn't exactly a common name, and he was sure he'd never met him.

Saithien looked away guiltily; he didn't want to lie to the boy, but he had no choice. His people were very strict with their rules, and he knew that he couldn't stay much longer.

After all, it was almost Hallowe'en.

He sighed and stood awkwardly, still watching Jack, whose eyes had now lost focus; he was going to pass out. Saithien looked at him pitifully, wishing he could do something for him. Catching Jack as he slumped to one side, he propped him against the wall.

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. With little deliberation, he replaced his hand against Jack's face and murmured something inaudibly, feeling the bone and muscle knit back together under his palm. A curl of smoke came from under his long, thin fingers, and he cursed to himself; he shouldn't have been so obvious. He didn't totally heal his jaw - he couldn't do any more without arousing more suspicion, but he couldn't to leave him like that.

He didn't want to leave him at all; it was, after all, his fault.

Sighing again, Saithien left the cramped white room with a backward glance at Jack, only the lingering smell of burnt toast any sign that he'd ever been there. The guards saluted him stiffly as he staggered down the hallway, his awkward, crazy gait rather befitting the asylum in which he stood.

He passed two janitors on his way out, and unlike the guards who were terrified into staring at the wall, they watched him go down the hallway, and as he reached the end, they saw something rather strange.

"Did you see that?" One gasped. "He just... He just, like, disappeared..." The other nodded dumbly, and replied,

"Yeah, but he like, set on fire..." They both stared at the slightly smoky end of the corridor.

"And just what," A haughty voice came from behind the two janitors, and they both jumped, "do you think you're doing?"

They slowly turned, and gulped as they saw who was stood there.

The first janitor thought, _I am so gonna get fired.  
_  
The second was just mentally screaming for mercy.

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DOOM!!!!! haha, i'm very very very sorry about the wait *dodges flying muffins from angry readers* everybody disappears off the face of the earth for a few months... right? uh, so yeah, the next chapter will be up very soon:) like, next week, maybe earlier if ppl review *nudge nudge wink wink*?? shameless, i know:) thank you very much for reading:)

SID


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